Hi!
Thanks for being here! I hope you're well. So, before you start please know that there is an immediate spoiler for my story
Love is a Place
here. That might not matter to you, and you don't need to have read that one first to understand this one, but, you know, if it was me I'd want to know that kind of thing in advance.
Also, one of the characters in this story appears in
The Hardest Step
. Again, it's really not important to have read that one first, but if you want a bit of background on Carrie that might be worth reading beforehand (it's very short).
All characters are over 18.
All feedback gratefully received.
Happy reading.
T
Eve and Lucy Chapter 1: the audition
Finally, the bathroom door opens and Louise comes out.
"Enjoy," she grimaces, "they've just started round two!"
I groan as I go in and lock the door behind me.
Yep, she's right. There it is - the buzzing sound coming through the wall, the moans of pleasure.
Samantha and Sarah are shagging. Again. Every bloody morning for the last 15 months or so. Plus most evenings. I mean, they are fucking insatiable! Given that their bedroom shares a ply board wall with the bathroom, any of us wanting a wash between 7 and 9 on a Sunday risks getting the full aural experience.
"Oh Samantha! Oh yes, right there.... Oh my God.... Oh my God... ahhhhhhhhh!"
I swear, Sarah couldn't sound louder if I was in the same room as them. I wonder whether the bathroom tiles actually amplify the sounds that come through?
The buzzing goes higher in pitch. Here it comes. Samantha is a creature of habit in all ways.
"Oh God, Samantha.... MMMMMMM .... Oh, yes, Samantha.... I love yooooooouuuuuuuuuu..."
Poster girls for the glories of sapphic sex, the pair of them. Damn Louise: I'd been really hoping to get in early and get done beforehand. I wanted a clear mind for the audition, not a screaming reminder about the screaming disappointment that is my sex life.
I start running the shower, hoping the sound of it will drown out round three. That's usually the loudest. Samantha's turn is normally much quieter. God it's weird how I know that!
I wash carefully, especially under my arms, where I've been letting my hair grow back ever since they announced this play. I figured it would be more authentic and I wanted to show I was prepared to commit to the role. Still, being hairy there does make me feel a bit self-conscious and so I want to make sure it's super clean.
"Ah ah ah ah ah ah...." Sarah's so loud I can hear her over the rushing water as I soap up my hair. Lucky I dealt with myself under the covers before coming in here or I might be, well, cumming in here. Wouldn't be the first time. Well, I might be straight but it's hard not to find those sounds a total turn on. That's when it's not making me insanely jealous: none of my lovers have come close to what those two seem to manage on an ordinary morning, either in stamina or outcome. The benefits of not having a refractory period I suppose.
Bump bump bump bump bump bump
Headboard? Or the upstairs neighbours thumping the floor to complain again?
Bump bump bump bump bump bump
No, must be the headboard whacking against the wall. Sarah's screams are almost in time with the thumping. Not for the first time, I wonder if they have a strap on or something? I imagine Samatha between Sarah's legs fucking her with a massive plastic penis. Or are they doing it doggy style? Samantha would probably tell me if I asked but, well, that would be kind of crossing a line.
I wait for Sarah's climax before getting out. Oh the absurdity of it: working my wash routine around my flatmates' sex life.
"Samantha my love, my love.... yes, yes, YES! Oh, oh, oh.... stop, stop..."
Right, time to get out. I'll just dry off and do the rest in my room and put the towel back later.
* * *
"Now, I want you to go back, go back, go back through time. Find a time of innocence and wonder," Keke's voice drones on as he paces around the large, top floor studio space he's booked for the audition. I like him, but he can be a pretentious prick at times. He's clearly envisioning himself as some kind of guru here in the group audition.
We've stretched and warmed up and done some drama games and now come the audition exercises.
I carefully ensure I'm near a group of first years and as far away from Carrie Huntley as possible. As much as I resent her, I have to admit she's an amazing actress and most likely frontrunner for the part of Eve. It's her final year too, so like me she'll be wanting to go out with a bang. Being next to her at this point will just invite comparison, whereas I should be able to outshine these over-serious freshers.
"Recall your early childhood: the time of why; the time of play; the time of now," Keke continues. I get what he's doing. The play is set in the garden of Eden before the fall, a time of innocence. I guess he wants to see if we can inhabit that headspace.
I've done my research. I've deliberately decked myself out in a simple, sleeveless dress in pastel colours. It's very loose, so I have leggings and a sports bra underneath. I'm not wearing makeup, ok, just a tiny, natural look smattering, and my curly hair is bouncing free. I'm hoping I look childish and naive. Perfect for Eve. I'm also hoping that, for once, my darker skin will be an asset not a hindrance. I mean, I got that I couldn't really be believable as Blanche DuBois, but it still smarted to be cast as the nameless coloured woman and have to watch while Carrie brought the house down in the title role. And to be relegated to Maria in Twelfth Night (with Carrie as Viola, of course!) was annoying, for all that I made that role my own. But this time, my appearance should make me the frontrunner, especially with Keke directing.
"Now," commands Keke, "play! Play children! Play!"
The first years - Tabitha and Lucy - jump on some toys and immediately start squabbling in a caricature of childhood tantrums. I hang back, and pick up some plastic animals. They're spending it all at once.
I'm not going to go fully method now. I will, if I get the part. But by now I've worked out what these group auditions are about and how to play them. It's not about raw talent, and definitely not about raw emotion, which is all those girls are showing: it's about accommodation. The director wants to know who will follow, who will be directed. Showing too much now will just threaten him or her.
I sit cross-legged on the floor and just play with the animals. I wait until I feel Keke's attention on me and then beckon to a boy near me.
"What's it called?" I ask, in my best little girl voice, holding up a plastic hippo.
He plays along, "that's a 'ip-o."
"A 'ippo?!" I giggle. "No, 'ippos are when you have 'ippos. Like dis," I do my best imitation of hiccups.
He laughs.
I don't want to over play it, so I pick up a model cheetah: "what's dis un den?"
"Dat's a cheetah."
"No! You're da cheater," I giggle.
From under my hair, I see Keke making notes and nodding to himself. I keep my little scene going. Of course, I've read the play: the opening scene is basically God and Adam naming animals. I'm sure Keke made the connection, but I'm hoping he thinks I was just improvising rather than making a deliberate reference.
Keke lets the scene run, before having us respond to various scenarios as a group. At one stage it all gets rather Lord of the Flies - bloody boys - but, again, I suppose that's appropriate given what Cain and Abel get up to.
I'm sweating by the end, and deeply conscious of my smell. I slathered on the deodorant, but I'm not used to being hairy. I desperately want to grab my roll on from my bag and reapply, but don't want to break character.